


Bi The Way

by MayMeows



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Baeksoo play a big part and are in it a lot as a couple, Biphobia, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, M/M, Only Used Once!, Riding, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sex, Slurs, baeksoo - Freeform, discussion of sexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayMeows/pseuds/MayMeows
Summary: Bisexuality seemed to hinge on ifs. The who, what, when, where, and why’s of Park Chanyeol were dependent on ifs. A terrifying thought when sexuality is one of the pillars that makes humans what they are. If he's with a girl, he's straight. If he's with a boy, he's gay. If he's with a girl, he's normal. If he's not... if...If he never falls in love with another boy, he can never disappoint his family.Jongdae greets him with a smile, full of sleepy mirth, "I dreamt about you."Chanyeol’s not really sure what the ifs mean anymore.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Kim Jongdae | Chen/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 21
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A hook-up AU that got too long and too complicated. Lots of this is Chanyeol dealing with his sexuality so the discussion of sexuality and the problems that comes with it are heavily part of the story, so please be aware of that. There are past heavy moments that are spoken about as well. Generally, if you are uncomfortable with discussions of sexuality, homophobia, biphobia, etc., I would be careful in reading. 
> 
> If I need to add tags, please let me know. I am new to posting lolz

Chanyeol startles awake to the vibration of his phone. Baekhyun rouses a little too, blinking at him, but making no move to raise his head from his desk. Their comp lecture is drearier than usual. Their professor’s voice drawls over the vowels, not to be bothered. Half the students were nodding off, while the other half was already asleep. Their teacher didn’t even say anything, just changing slide after slide. Chanyeol groggily unlocks his phone to the text. 

You forgot something last night - JD 

Chanyeol smirks, Yea? 

Sent Attachment - JD

Well. Chanyeol quickly lowered his phone, looking around. Baekhyun was awake now, if it could be considered that; just blankly blinking at the monitor, mouth hanging open. His phone buzzes again. 

You should come get it - JD

Right above the message is a mirror selfie with Jongdae in Chanyeol’s hoodie with his naked thighs on display. His mouth waters. One thigh is angled to show the inside, showing off a bite mark. Which could be directly be tracked to Chanyeol’s dental records. Chanyeol sends a wish to the universe before looking at the clock. He almost cheers out loud. 

Chanyeol - You’re the reason why men can’t wear tight jeans

Chanyeol - Class ends in 15 

I’m going to time you like a pizza delivery boy. If you don’t get here in 30min, I get a free fuck - JD

Chanyeol puts his phone away, while he may be wearing loose pants, these jeans wouldn’t be able to hide much either. Besides, Kyungsoo, the single person taking notes, looks over to him, brow raised. Chanyeol shrugs, dropping his grin. 

When they’re dismissed, Chanyeol gathers his things in record time. He’s walking out of the aisle with one thought in mind. It’s barely a thought; every time he blinks all he sees is Jongdae and the thought is ‘yes, thank you’. 

“Yah! Chanyeol! Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks. 

“We’re getting lunch, did you forget?” Kyungsoo adds. 

Chanyeol did, in fact, forget. Now… when he says one thought, Chanyeol really does mean one thought. So he says, 

“Yeah, about that… “ Chanyeol wracked his brain for an excuse, except all it can come up with is Jongdae in his hoodie, bite-able thighs. “Yeah.” Jongdae. Ass that won’t quit. “Yeah, I’ll see you at home.”

Baekhyun and Kyungsoo watch Chanyeol make his way through the crowd, distracted, but determined. 

“He’s fucking someone,” They conclude.  
_________

The door opens after Chanyeol’s constant knocking. Jongdae greets him in the hoodie sans everything else. God, he looks absolutely delicious. His bleached hair is fluffy like waves kissing the beach. He looks like summer and fall and Chanyeol wants to eat him up. Wants to put all sorts of marks all over him, next to all his freckles. Chanyeol’s hands go grabby immediately, but Jongdae steps back into the apartment, with a grin. He holds up a timer on his phone, reading 33.47. 

“Does this mean I don’t have to make you cum?” 

Chanyeol scoffs, “Like you can resist.” 

Jongdae laughs when Chanyeol crowds him, wrapping an arm around his waist and kicking the door closed. Jongdae struggles, a peal of giggles leaving his lips, as he tries to wrestle himself out of Chanyeol’s hold. But he’s just that much smaller, Chanyeol’s grip easily holds. His belly heats up with every ruck up of the hoodie, revealing more skin and the plumpness of his ass where it meets his thighs. 

“Stop squirming!” Chanyeol laughs as he hefts Jongdae by the waist, pulling their chests together. Jongdae’s legs immediately go around his waist, ankles hooking together. He doesn’t wait to put his lips to Jongdae’s, hungry. Jongdae sinks into the kiss, licking lips before letting himself into Chanyeol’s mouth. 

Chanyeol uses the wall to rest Jongdae’s back on it, rolling his hips and pressing his bulge against Jongdae’s bare ass. He was already half hard making his way to Jongdae’s apartment, excitement running all through him. It’s in his fingertip when he touches the corner of Jongdae’s mouth. 

“You owe me,” Jongdae whispers, voice husky and hot against his ear. His tongue flicks over Chanyeol’s finger. “You took so long I had to play by myself.” 

Chanyeol grinds against Jongdae’s ass. He dives in for a searing kiss. Heat burns under his skin. His brain conjures up a scene of Jongdae laid back on the bed, legs splayed with fingers furiously pumping into himself. Chanyeol imagines his hoodie pooling around lean wrists. Chanyeol moans, practically dry humping Jongdae against the wall. He feels Jongdae’s interest against his stomach, hums at the feel of Jongdae’s biceps over his shoulders, arms locking around his neck. Fingers, gently, tugging on his hair. 

“Uhnn, fuck,” Jongdae groans. He meets the roll of Chanyeol’s hips. “As much as I would like to just get you in there, we should get on a bed. And you, naked.” 

He doesn’t pay that much heed, nor does the other, continuing to suck kisses under Jongdae’s jaw. He feels the vibration of Jongdae’s moans against his lips. Chanyeol uses his free hand to knead Jongdae’s cheek. His fingertips grace over his slick hole. The smaller tugs on his hair with a whine. He groans. 

“Chanyeollie.” 

“I know,’ Chanyeol sucks his bottom lip. “I know,” Jongdae sucks on his tongue. “Bedroom.” 

Having Jongdae wrapped around him, lips on his neck, distracts Chanyeol completely from the fact that he knows how to get to Jongdae’s bedroom without much looking. Knows which part of the bed is softest to dump Jongdae on. With his curls splayed out on the sheets, slender fingers sliding the fabric up marked up thighs, a preview. It has Chanyeol pulling his belt from his jeans. His shirt is thrown over broad shoulders, making a show of peeling it from the bottom. Jongdae bites his worn lip. He shoves both his jeans and boxers off. There’s an appreciative grunt as his cock hangs, hard and heavy. 

Jongdae kneels on the bed, back to him, but twisting to stare at Chanyeol’s dick, legs spread apart. The sweater is rucked up to his waist, giving a full view of his ass. And the two fingers thrusting into it. Jongdae leans forward on his hand. 

“Lube? Condoms?” Chanyeol squeezes his dick around the base. 

“Nightstand. A-ahh-s- always.” 

He kneels behind Jongdae, hand squeezing his waist. Chanyeol slides his other hand over his length, watching Jongdae’s fingers sink into his ass. They slide easily into him, slick and squelching. Chanyeol moans, cock twitching, because it still remembers what it's like to be inside Jongdae. It was just this morning, after all. Now, his ass is on display for him, prepped to take him again. 

He leans over, grabs the foil packet and the bottle of lube. He rips the packet, throws it out in the garbage can by Jongdae’s bed, and rolls the condom over his dick. He strokes lube over his cock. He tips the bottle over Jongdae’s ass, squeezing so it drips down his crack to his hole. Chanyeol taps Jongdae’s wrist. The fingers retract to allow Chanyeol to take over, taking his hand off his dick to trace Jongdae’s rim. He teases his fingertips over his hole, stroking them over his perineum. Jongdae whines, pushing his hips to try to get his fingers to sink in.  
“Don’t,” Jongdae huffs. 

Chanyeol bites his lip, taking his fingers out and grabs the base of his cock. He smacks it against Jongdae’s ass with a grin. Precum smears over his plump skin. The smaller groans, because, as he’s let Chanyeol know, he loves the weight of Chanyeol’s thick dick. He rubs the head against the sensitive rim. Jongdae whines, petulant, arching his back and rolling his hips to take more of Chanyeol. 

“Fuck me or let me suck it,” Jongdae says, twists to throw a more-cute-than-angry pout. “But I want dick in me.” 

Chanyeol throws him the grin, leans to slot his lips on Jongdae’s, kisses him deep. He moans around Chanyeol’s tongue, licking back into his mouth. Chanyeol presses forward, nips Jongdae’s bottom lip before shoving his shoulder down. 

“I’ll let you suck it later,” Chanyeol whispers against his ear, lining up.

“I’ll let you beg- Nngh!” 

He pulls on Jongdae’s hips, watching his dick get buried in Jongdae’s ass. It’s tight, hot, and oh so good. Chanyeol moans, chest deep, alongside Jongdae’s husky ones. It ends in a breathy laugh when Jongdae refuses to let him start with a slow pace, fucking his hips to meet Chanyeol’s. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. Chanyeol likes their tempo. Feels heady with climbing pleasure. 

Fucking Jongdae is always fun. He’s smaller, in height and frame, making Chanyeol feel bigger, broader. His hands encompass Jongdae’s small waist. He can also bench press Jongdae’s weight so throwing him around is easy. Easy to hold Jongdae steady, who only moans as his fingers dig into his hips, fucking him with sharp thrusts. Chanyeol lets his head fall back, feels pleasure ripple through him. The back of Jongdae’s thighs clap against the tops of his. The sting ripples, Chanyeol sighs, a pleased hum follows it. 

“Chanyeol,” Jongdae keens. “Wanna ride you.” 

“Fuck, Jongdae…” 

He almost wants to just chase the spiking heat. Wants to thrust into Jongdae’s slicked walls, tight around him, until he’s completely sheathed, to cum deep inside him. But he’s a sucker for Jongdae so Chanyeol reluctantly stops, drags his cock out, making sure the smaller feels every inch of it. Then, slapping a perky cheek - savors the way it jiggles - before laying down on his back. Jongdae rubs his offended cheek, as he sits on Chanyeol’s hips. The hoodie Jongdae wears drapes over his entire frame, pooling around his splayed thighs and on Chanyeol’s hips. Chanyeol slides his hands up Jongdae’s thighs, dipping under the hoodie, falling into place around his slender waist. 

Jongdae hums at the pressure, leaning down. Chanyeol parts his lips, already tasting the kiss. Jongdae’s lips stop to hover just above. His lips tingle in anticipation. When their mouths meet, Jongdae’s tongue kitten flicks over his, kissing him with greed. Breath stolen from his lungs, Chanyeol’s light headed as Jongdae pulled away, sitting up. His thighs flexing as he lifts his hips, the fabric of the hoodie outlining Jongdae’s cock. 

He lets out a low moan as Jongdae sinks down on his dick. His thumbs draw appreciative circles against Jongdae’s waist, fingers splaying over Jongdae’s hips. He raises his hips until it’s just the tip inside, mewls when its head catches on his rim, before sinking down to the base. His eyes flutter close, seeing sparks of color with Jongdae’s bounce. He lets a rhythm fall in place, relishing the vice grip around his cock. It’s easy for them to find the pulse between them. 

Under the hoodie, he wraps one hand around Jongdae. He jerks his fist and the spasm of Jongdae’s ass around him is heavenly. Honestly, how was he expecting Chanyeol to last?

He spreads the precum Jongdae’s cock drips, slicking him up. Chanyeol tightens his fist, answered with a gasp and stuttering hips. Jongdae loses his pace as he’s torn between fucking into Chanyeol’s fist or down on his dick. It doesn’t take long before Jongdae’s breath hitches, moans loud and lewd. His walls clench down around Chanyeol. He thrusts up, chasing his own orgasm. Jongdae brings his fist, the hoodie’s sleeve over it, to his mouth, muffling his voice. 

“…Chanyeol,” Jongdae moans as his body shudders, muffling the name into his fist. Chanyeol feels like he’s been punched in the gut. Pleasure surges through him, grinding his cock deep into Jongdae, fingers digging into his hips. He blanks out, eyes closed. 

His mind goes in suspense, into numbing euphoria, blanketed by Jongdae’s lax body. His lungs inhale and exhale, lazily. The tips of his fingers tingle where they meet Jongdae’s skin. Chanyeol’s hands play notes against his back. 

Chanyeol hears the music in his head, loud and clear, building beats and melodies. The bridges fall in place. Where his chest rises and falls with Jongdae’s. The chorus plays itself in the ebbing pleasure. Breathy sighs from Jongdae’s lips form stories and catches sounds. They stack themselves like aligning notes into a melody. Chanyeol feels blissful, nearly surreal, with hands playing a duet on his chest. 

His mind can be empty with Jongdae. There isn’t a proper explanation on how or why, what proof Chanyeol has in the time they've been hooking up, but he finds himself slipping into calmness around the other. Maybe it's the endorphins, but… With Jongdae, all the noise just dropped out and he was left with sounds that begged to be built into something. 

Maybe it’s cause Jongdae feels like a song. 

——-

“Chanyeol is definitely dating someone and I need to know who it is,” Baekhyun says. He and Kyungsoo are back in their (and Chanyeol’s) apartment. 

They rent out the bottom floor of a house. It is shitty. The heat barely works. The bedrooms are tiny. The bathroom is huge for no reason. The living room is huge, but has no windows. Perfect for vampires, but not humans who needed sunlight. It’s on a major road that’s busy 24/7. However, it’s cheap, has a backyard and basement for parties, plus the upstairs neighbors were Baekhyun’s friends. Besides, the kitchen was nice, as far as college kids could ask for, so Kyungsoo was content. The apartment gets to be very crappy, because it's only a couple blocks from campus and one block away from the bars. One of which, Kyungsoo works in. 

“Why do you care so much?” Kyungsoo asks, sitting at their small 4 persons, plastic table with a mismatch of foldout chairs in various states of disarray. Two of them are piled with miscellaneous things that none of them have had the time to organize. The only other chair is occupied by their backpacks. Baekhyun perches his ass on the table. 

“He’s our best friend. Who he dates becomes our friend. They become our best couple friends. And I need this mystery person to be trustworthy if they’ll be babysitting our kids.”  
Kyungsoo hums, ponders before nodding, “A moot point. Though, fragmented and, perhaps looking too far ahead, but there’s truth in that. It is a potential problem if he dates someone troublesome.” 

“Knew I could make you see it my way,” Baekhyun preens under the victory. Kyungsoo scrunches his nose. “Think about it, why would he hide it from us? He’s never been coy about being in a relationship. Hell, I know too much about Chanyeol and his sex life, not because I want to. Then, all of a sudden, he’s sneaking around. Clearly, hiding something that he’s never cared about before. I mean, seriously, he’s spent the weekend with whoever. That’s dating.” 

“Could he be embarrassed of this mystery person?” Kyungsoo says. 

“He’s vain about his appearance, but you know Chanyeol’s not shallow,” Baekhyun huffs, thinks, continues. “Well, not that shallow. Maybe he’s dating an ex?” 

“Doubt it,” Kyungsoo scoffs. He’d made sure that all his friend’s bad break ups never had the courage to call again. Chanyeol only had bad breakups. Kyungsoo understands that people have plenty of emotions and attachments that make them make bad decisions. His tall friend is a fireball of emotions. If he feels negative about one thing, everything’s negative. And vice-versa. They’ve had front row seats to Chanyeol’s break ups, they are catastrophic. 

They sit around in silence, mulling the budding of a… situation. Eventually, Baekhyun groaned in frustration, “I can’t even think of a good reason why he would keep it a secret!”  
“Maybe it’s a guy,” Kyungsoo says. 

Baekhyun swears he can hear ba-dum-pshh of drums before laughing hysterically at the idea. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at him. 

Chanyeol is bisexual. That’s common knowledge in their circle of queer friends. What is, also, common knowledge within their friends group is the simmering hatred that Baekhyun had for Chanyeol regarding his track record with gender and relationships. Namely, the fact that Chanyeol, in the years of his friendship with Baekhyun, never once dated a single guy. Chanyeol has had ‘long term fuck buddies’ whom were male, but never a boyfriend. He had never even heard Chanyeol go on a date with a guy. Baekhyun would accept Chanyeol saying he’s more attracted to women than men, but he’s equal in taking the genders to bed. 

It makes Chanyeol the “bad guy”. People, who were “will fuck the same gender, but won’t have a relationship with the same gender” were problematic in endless, ignorant ways. He wants nothing more than to sit Chanyeol down and just break it down for him; internalized homophobia, fear of rejection, etc. Other times, he wanted to just get into a fist fight with the other. Baekhyun understood that Chanyeol’s relationship with sexuality, gender, gender roles required a more in-depth critical look than blind anger. But he still really, really wanted to blow up on Chanyeol for behaving this way. 

Except Baekhyun understands why. Chanyeol’s not out. His parents are wonderful people, but they weren’t exactly progressive. Baekhyun, like Chanyeol, is a first generation immigrant. Coming out to his parents had been an awkward ordeal and Baekhyun’s parents are liberal by traditional standards. It had taken some time to get them to understand.

Then again, the entire concept of ‘coming out’ is stupid, sexuality shouldn’t be assumed straight until proven gay. But it’s a real situation that queer people had to go through. The anxieties that came with it were exponentially worse when it’s warped, hyped up, as this ‘all or nothing’ situation, because sometimes it is. Before coming out, Baekhyun had thought he would lose his family, and he hadn’t, thank god, but Kyungsoo did. While Kyungsoo held nothing against this, coming from a shitty home, the sting of rejection is still there. That fear, the consequences, were real. 

It’s hard, complicated, and terrifying. Chanyeol needed friends, who stood by him, even when he was pulling something like this.

Now, this never stopped Baekhyun from feeling infuriated at the other. Valid, understandable rage. 

But Chanyeol’s fear of his own sexuality and its repercussions were, also, valid, understandable fears. 

“I’m serious,” Kyungsoo says, kicking Baekhyun for laughing. The laugh had petered into a bitter, existential scoff anyway. He knows Kyungsoo’s serious. Everything’s always more complicated than Baekhyun’s tired, gay brain could handle. 

“Chanyeol doesn’t date guys, remember?” 

“Exactly,” Kyungsoo rebuts him, flatly. “Chanyeol clearly likes this person, based on how much time he spends with them and how distracted he’s been by his phone. Yes?” 

Baekhyun nods. He presses his fingers up to his temples, wondering if he’s ready to go down this road again. Part of the pesky thing about being from the rainbow community, especially, though not limited to, in your 20s, was the fun sexuality crisis that came with being queer. Coming out and its repercussions were just part of this. It’s like a cruel joke on all people veering away from the sex, gender, social norm; a survival game of mental spiraling and rebuilding. If you didn’t break, you either came out bitter or strong. Or more accurately, bitter, then strong and bitter. 

“Maybe she wants to keep it a secret,” Baekhyun tries, weakly.

It makes sense. Chanyeol doesn’t hide his relationships, ever. Evidently, he’s infatuated by whomever it is on the other end of the line, giggly and smily over their texts. And he spent a lot of time over this person’s dwelling. Baekhyun hadn’t heard any sex stories. (Again, it’s a topic Chanyeol boasted about. Baekhyun does not have any weird investment in his friends’ sex lives.) There’s no general bragging about how much better his relationship is than Baekhhyun’s. (Lies, by the way, he and Kyungsoo were the power couple, charisma and practical application). All things that Chanyeol did when he was with or about to date someone. 

Baekhyun concedes with a sigh, “I’m hungry.” 

“I suppose we further investigate Chanyeol’s drama after some grilled cheeses,” Kyungsoo kisses his forehead. 

——-

Chanyeol swears he’s leaving the moment he gets his shirt on. 

“You want to order take-out?” Jongdae asks when Chanyeol sucks hickeys on his thigh. 

If he ever gets himself out from between Jongdae’s legs. He was supposed to leave an hour ago. 

“You realize I’m trying to work up to rimming, right?” Chanyeol points out. He surges up so he’s nose to nose with Jongdae. Who’s eyes go cross eyed at their sudden proximity. It makes Chanyeol laugh, distracting him for a second before going in for a kiss. Arms are thrown around his head as he tips his weight to smush Jongdae into the bed. The smaller let out a garbled string of high pitched shrieks and giggles. Chanyeol’s lips feel fuzzy, left like that from kisses vibrating with laughter. 

They spend another hour doing nothing, talking about nonsense. At some point, they build a playlist together. The next song to be played is the first song that they think of. The beginning of it is good, songs playing off each, one after the other, until Chanyeol incepts the Barbie Girl song in their heads and its game over. They laugh themselves stupid until Chanyeol’s stomach joins Jongdae in hungry rumbling. 

“Fine, take-out,” Chanyeol says. 

“Yes! I’ll call Onew’s for delivery,” Jongdae rewards him with a purposefully sloppy kiss. He gets up from the bed, shrugging on a t-shirt and sweatpants. Chanyeol’s a little disappointed that Jongdae doesn’t wear one of his hoodies again. But it was probably wise, at least they couldn’t embarrass themselves like last time. He grabs his phone off the nightstand. “Same as last time? Chef’s fried rice and shrimp mac.” 

“Tacos,” Chanyeol says, sitting up. 

“Always on the list,” Jongdae scoffs, putting his phone to his ear and walking to the kitchen. “But I’ll get extra.” 

Chanyeol puts his shirt on. The first pair of sweatpants he puts on are too tight and too short. He searches through the pile of clothes on a chair, easily finding a pair of his own, but not the ones he came here with. He notices another pair of pants and a t-shirt that are his. Chanyeol had been looking for those some time ago, even rummaging through Baekhyun’s laundry. They were folded nicely, draped over the designated clothes chair. He files through a few more layers of clothes and cringes at the amount of crap he’s left behind in Jongdae’s apartment.  
Not touching that with a ten foot pole. 

Chanyeol grabs his and Jongdae’s backpack and sits down at the breakfast bar. Jongdae’s apartment is a studio, composed of a tiny bathroom, a basic kitchen that had only the bar that separated it from a living room, only big enough to fit a futon couch and TV. His bedroom’s a larger than average alcove off the living area, politely curtained off. 

About fifteen minutes away, Chanyeol’s shared apartment, with Baekhyun and Kyungsoo, stood in an area where most houses and buildings were converted into off-campus housing for the students, unable to afford on-campus options. Their part of the city catered to college students, due to proximity to campus. It meant rent is more expensive and really only affordable with roommates. Jongdae’s studio is on the other side of the city, just close enough to still be convenient. About fifteen minutes by car, twice the amount using the campus buses. Most times Chanyeol comes over, it’s just inconvenient to make the trek home. 

Yeah, that sounds real convincing, his own brain teases. 

Jongdae thanks him as he takes out his books on advanced music theory. They take the same class, but with different blocks as it’s a requirement for graduating from the music program. It’s a class that Jongdae loves and Chanyeol despises, he’s a music maker not a scientist. Jongdae laughs him off, each time he begins to complain, and they work through lessons together. It’s infinitely better than being in class. Eventually, their order arrives and they practically throw their books and laptops aside to dig into it. Chanyeol grabs silverware and beers, while Jongdae puts out plates and uncovers all the containers. He chuckles to himself, watching as the dumplings are split evenly between 2 plates. 

Jongdae acknowledges it by saying, “I’m not trying to start fights.” 

One of the facts he knows about Jongdae is that he grew up in a family of 4, until moving to the states; a mom, dad, and 2 boys. That number went down to 2 after moving to the states, from family hardships he’s not privy to, then the mother and son became a family of 3 with the later addition of Kyungsoo. Similarly, Chanyeol came from a family of 4 too, but with a girl and a boy. Jongdae told Chanyeol that his mother had prayed for a girl, desired the special bond between a mother and daughter, but never showed an ounce of disappointment at his gender. Jongdae had told him he did everything he could to give her that bond, take up that missing space in her heart. Chanyeol can relate. He became closer to his mother, Yoora with their father, as they grew up. 

It’s sometimes funny to see the reflexive things that Jongdae did under his mother’s tutelage; admitting that, when he was young, he used to serve and make dinner plates, because he liked helping her in the kitchen. Chanyeol gets that too, never letting his sister live down the fact that he’s a better cook than her, because their mom continually dragged Chanyeol to her shifts at the restaurant. But, as Jongdae grabs containers, he puts a portion on his and Chanyeol’s plate. Chanyeol joins him, picking something at random, deciding if it belongs on his, or Jongdae’s, or both their plates. They chat, absentmindedly, on topics Chanyeol forgets in the next minute. 

When it’s all said and done, Chanyeol looks down at his plate and freezes. 

It’s perfect. Even with the stuff he hates picked out. He hesitates to look at Jongdae’s plate, but finds that it’s just as catered to his taste. 

Jongdae pays him no mind, digging into his meal, thanking him for the pile of noodles. Meanwhile, there’s a roiling mess bubbling up in Chanyeol. Jongdae talks at him between big mouthfuls, complaining about this and that. He fails at focusing on any of the words as the bubbles inside him are crowding his chest. When the other does quirk an eyebrow his way, he hurriedly stuffs his face. 

He catches the curl of Jongdae’s lips. There’s a soft touch to his hand, resting on the table. It’s hardly anything, just a graze of fingers. But it sends a spark through him and all the bubbles dissolve like cotton candy to water. 

“I can drive you home,” Jongdae offers. “I did seduce you to come out here last minute. And you did say you had to leave.” 

“Right…” Chanyeol takes another big bite. 

Here’s the thing… he knows how the night will proceed. After dinner, he’ll pretend to stay for lazy studying before they give up and hang out, fuck around some, before falling asleep. It’ll be a pleasant evening. One that anyone would have a hard time passing up. When he finally manages to choke down the bite, his eyes meet with Jongdae’s. 

Now, here’s the other thing, Chanyeol doesn’t know what it is. But it’s the way Jongdae’s eyes look right through him. When Jongdae turns that gaze away with a small smile and flushing cheeks, Chanyeol feels like he’s in on a secret about Jongdae that no one else knows. Chanyeol feels thoroughly seen under that gentle gaze and, in return, his sight feels clear too. It’s both so freeing and so terrifying. 

Regardless, they arrive at a silent agreement, both knowing Chanyeol would, undoubtedly, stay. 

______

Chanyeol knew he was bisexual in 8th grade. It was simple to him: girls and boys looked equally appealing. It doesn’t come as a surprise when he realizes his sexuality during the budding part of it. Porn was available, easy to find, and giggle-whispered enough to rouse his interest. And, well, he found his eyes couldn’t decide which sex to pay attention to. Chanyeol, being who he is, had immediately asked his sister about it. Without her, Chanyeol was sure he would have died early due to sheer stupid impulse. It was instinct to reach out for her opinion on all his matters.  
They had been walking home when Chanyeol had brought it up. Or, rather, confessed about watching porn. To his defense, Chanyeol was 13, awkward and without a single shred of common sense, and grew up in a home that didn’t discuss sex. Watching porn had made him feel a little dirty. He had been searching for reassurance. 

She had rolled her eyes, mumbling about too much information. But that was normal sibling banter. That was the reassurance Chanyeol needed to keep talking, giving too much detail about what he had seen. He asks her who she likes to look at more, the girl or guy? 

Yoora stopped walking. When Chanyeol looked back, he saw her wide shocked eyes, mouth dropped. He felt confusion first, because it wasn’t a big deal, right? But she looked at him, searching for something. Exactly like that time he had come home with a kitten in his arms, skin covered in hives, eyes puffy and red. 

“I-I mean - just k-kidding -” 

“Chanyeol, it’s okay,” she had said, teeth digging into her bottom lip. “It’s fine that you are… really, it’s okay. There’s people in my grade that are like…you know- attracted to both - err- all sexes...” She was stammering. Chanyeol feels shame wash over him. That couldn’t have been that. Not what the other boys mock in the locker rooms. 

When he looks back on it, Yoora was a teenager, who was ill-equipped for a big talk on sexuality. “To be, you know, bisexual is perfectly normal.” He doesn’t know if that’s the right word, but he latches on to it. A label to a confusing thing inside his mind. “But mom and dad, they’re born in a different time. In a different place. Okay?” 

He nods to something he doesn’t quite understand. 

“They may not be that… accepting…” Yoora said. He nodded, feeling his insides go cold. “Just know, that they’re going to love you. Even if it’s hard for awhile.” 

She hugged him, tight, “But I’m here. Always.” 

Chanyeol never touches the implications of her last sentence. ‘I’m here’. It’s a promise that no matter what Yoora would be there for him. ‘But’. It meant that there was a reality that Chanyeol had never thought of. He had never once, in his entire life, questioned the stability of his parents. That was that ‘but’s implication: ’Our parents don’t accept you, but I’m here’. It's a thought that he buries deep in his mind, arms held tight around Yoora, swearing to “never, ever lose his family”. 

It never changes, though. He locks this memory in chains and welds metal spikes all over it. Sometimes, his heart still skips nervous by nervous beat when Yoora begins to say something, fearing she would bring it up. She never does. He never does. Chanyeol spends the rest of high school scolding himself for looking at other men. It never works. He never changes. Only indulging his attractions in the quiet, dark of his room. Chanyeol leaves for college with the same vow. 

Except his freshman roommate was no other than Byun Baekhyun. 

Picture this: Chanyeol, sworn closeted, with his arms full of flimsy boxes, hampers of clothes, and whatever-else he could fit under his arm with his family, equally overloaded, speaking in loud, fast judgmental Korean. The door to his dorm opens to Baekhyun in a tie-dye rainbow shirt under a jean jacket covered in various flags, pins, and buttons of the gay variety. The rainbows drawn on his cheeks is still such a visceral image to Chanyeol, recalling it with clarity. He had smiled and respectfully greeted Chanyeol and his family with a bow before quickly excusing himself. 

“Aren’t people like that supposed to have their own dorms now?” His dad decides he needed to muse that thought out loud. It feels like a cut to a flower budding inside him. 

Just jokes though. He’s heard plenty of them. 

Chanyeol doesn’t remember much else from move-in day, other than Baekhyun re-introducing himself and explaining he had gone to the university’s LGBTQAI+ club’s Move-In Weekend party.  
Being around Baekhyun, loud, proud Baekhyun, had Chanyeol bursting at the seams with hope. Baekhyun’s confidence was evidence on its own: not being straight was perfectly normal, if not the best thing ever. Chanyeol had spent his freshman year being dragged to parties after parties in Baekhyun’s big gay circle of friends. Chanyeol felt absolved as he traded drunk kisses with a boy, just because he can. 

Though, in the summers, he can’t. Locked away again, buried and only to be earthed when the summer comes to a close. But he gets to open it again, unwrap it, and he can breath easier. It’s been like that since freshman year. 

He’s a senior now. 

Chanyeol wakes up from memories playing like a flip book in his dream. An intense recollection of imagery and words all drawn together from the depths of his brain that he doesn’t want to touch yet. He’s wide awake, head filled to the brim with thoughts. Maybe that’s why he had woken up in the first place. Too much processing happening in the subconscious. 

“Shit,” Chanyeol grunts. Mind awake, body sluggish. He moves to get up when he registers the dead weight on his chest. Jongdae had decided, during the night, that Chanyeol’s pecs would make perfect pillows. In order to get there, the smaller had to lay half on top of Chanyeol’s bulk. His waist twisted in a strange angle. He chuckles, shifting a bit so Jongdae’s position stops placing too much pressure on his waist. Jongdae whines in his sleep, nearly twitching awake, but otherwise sinks like a stone into the new position. 

Chanyeol is left with a choice: get up and wake Jongdae up or stay awake the entire time Jongdae slept? He looks down at Jongdae’s serene, snoozing expression. So be it. 

Except his brain is riddled with anxiety. He can’t ignore them, wide awake and unable to move. The flip book of his insecurities and fears plays itself again. Chanyeol’s thoughts are loud as they bounce around his skull, bruising bone and inducing the beginnings of a migraine. 

Bisexuality seemed to hinge on ifs. The who, what, when, where, and why’s of Park Chanyeol were dependent on ifs. 

A scary thought when he thinks about it too hard, the idea that his identity hung on such vague terms. People, in urban areas like this, like to claim that sexuality isn’t a “big deal anymore”; optimistically, ignorantly holding an inkling of truth yet not the whole truth, a lot of social identity hung on relationships. Being a cis, white, gay man, in the northeast of the US, yeah, true, it probably wasn’t a ‘big deal’. There was progress, but to believe all queer folk were treated with kindness and acceptance, only someone straight would think that. 

Even the way some from his own supposed community spoke about those like him… Chanyeol has broken it down this way: if he’s with a girl, he’ll ‘remain straight’. If he’s with a boy, he’ll just be gay. That’s how people will perceive it, deny the possibility of a third, a fourth, fifth possibility. 

Furthermore, Chanyeol’s at a pivotal point in his life, if he is with a girl, his life trajectory will remain normal and if he is with a boy, it wouldn’t be normal. In scenario 1, nothing happens, he’ll get into a relationship, get married, happily ever after. He’ll make his parents proud. In scenario 2, his entire family’s view of him would get uprooted and they wouldn’t lov- Well, Chanyeol doesn’t think about that. 

If he can deny this one piece of him, treat it as the phase, the choice, people make it out to be, then he never has to deal with the consequences of it. 

If Chanyeol is- 

“G’mornin’,” Jongdae mumbles, almost incomprehensible. He nuzzles his head in the space between Chanyeol’s pecs. A contented hum rumbles against his chest as he gives one a weak squeeze. 

His kicking heart finds its breaks. All the thoughts he had woken to, forgotten. With them, the dark gale that wrecked inside his ribcage. The weight of an entire person on him feels like a feather. He strokes Jongdae’s hair, lazy, absent, with eyes half-lidded. The sunshine is lackadaisical with its yellow rays softened by the gauzy white curtains. Wind snoozes, alongside Jongdae, with quiet breath. There’s a slight cool in the breeze, but their bodies warm each other beneath the blanket. 

Chanyeol closes his eyes. Jongdae’s exhales sound like petulant purrs. They drift. 

He can’t think of anything better than this. Chanyeol wants to stay right here, all his feelings dreamy, surrounded by Jongdae’s warmth. He wants to stretch this for as long as possible. Wants to share his sleeping hours. He wants, wants, wants… 

If he never falls in love with another boy, he can never disappoint his parents.

Chanyeol wakes up. He sucks in a shaky inhale as he battles his heart to slow down. Chanyeol startles awake. He sucks in a shaky inhale as he battles his heart to slow down. The remnants of the nightmare are still sticking. Old memories and chants he used to whisper to comfort himself; if you never fall in love with another boy, you can never disappoint mom and dad, if you just don’t act on it, it’s not real. 

He loses the fight as anxiety sweeps over him, begging the thoughts away. 

Jongdae stirs, fingers stretching over Chanyeol’s skin, drawing soothing patterns. When he’s able to, he looks at Jongdae. 

He’s greeted with a smile, full of sleepy mirth, “I dreamt about you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the homophobic F slur is used in this, but not directly? It's thought about. Also, should I take the fluff tag out of this...?

Kyungsoo understands why his friends call him intense despite his quiet nature. 

He’s not very carefree or particularly rambunctious. Kyungsoo’s not exactly a go-getter either, being that his favorite thing in the world is something as basic as cooking. But, then again, he’s pursuing a career as a professional chef, getting into one of the toughest culinary programs in the city - no, scratch that - this side of the country. It wasn’t his choice school either. Jongdae received a scholarship offer, after being scouted, for the university’s music & arts program. Kyungsoo, without thinking or realizing the school’s reputation on culinary arts, decided he would go to the same school as Jongdae. 

And he does. 

That’s just one example. Kyungsoo confirms his own intensity when he watches Chanyeol try to hide his budding relationship. He’s giggling, on the other side of the couch, at whoever is on the other side of the conversation. 

“What are you laughing at?” 

Chanyeol pops his head up, caught, “Oh, uhh, just a meme.” 

“What meme?” 

“Yeah, Kyungsoo, that’s how memes work, by explaining them,” Chanyeol snorts. 

“Why don’t you just show it to me?” 

“You don’t even get memes half the time I show them to you,” Chanyeol says, getting back to cozying up with the couch. His fingers move in a way that suggests texting rather than scrolling through a timeline. 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, because Chanyeol is such a bad liar. He’s not an open book, because reading wouldn’t be accessible enough. He’s an open album of baby pictures. Complete with a volumes 2 and 3 of awkward puberty. He’s completely and utterly unable to keep a secret. Chanyeol’s feelings of feelings so sweet spill all over the place. Kyungsoo can feel it, the cotton candy fluff of an affinity with another, rolling off Chanyeol. People were the same, same chemicals popping off in our brains, when we find someone we like. How could they not notice? 

When Kyungsoo had those feelings, he had sat Baekhyun down and explained: he would not nurture such feelings should Baekhyun be incapable of commitment. Baekhyun had laughed in his face and explained: if he wasn’t committed already, he wouldn’t have spent freshman year getting Kyungsoo to just talk to him. Their approach is, in all fairness, intense. Jongdae had called them both idiots and to ‘kiss already’. 

“Are you dating someone?” Kyungsoo flatly asks Chanyeol. He’s really not the type to be discreet, which is how Baekhyun wanted to find out about Chanyeol’s relationship status. Chanyeol looks over to him, surprised enough that the answer is… 

Yes, evidently. 

“Uh, no-” 

“Really?” 

“I’m not,” Chanyeol says. Only denials ever came out that fast. Kyungsoo hums and turns his attention back to the TV. This is what he doesn’t get: why hide it when you feel that way about someone? 

As far as Kyungsoo’s concerned, love should always be embraced.

Baekhyun flops down on top of him, arms around his shoulders and lips begging for a kiss. Kyungsoo shoves him off, because Baekhyun’s still dressed in his rehearsal clothes with a loose backpack about to hit him in the face. He’s sure to give Baekhyun lots of kisses when he’s showered and settling in his usual seat between Kyungsoo and Chanyeol.   
They zone out to a few episodes of a sitcom before, like clockwork, Chanyeol leaves to wherever, whoever, he goes to. 

Kyungsoo has only begun to pay attention to Chanyeol’s absence. He’s plenty busy with university, Baekhyun, family, and work that it can be difficult to keep up with other people. Chanyeol’s absence isn’t recent as he’s a busy body. Between classes, friends, and making music, Chanyeol’s just as busy. Kyungsoo’s just not sure when Chanyeol started spending most nights over someone else’s. Out of the few weeks that he’s been paying attention, Chanyeol sleeps over at least 3 nights a week, 4 if he stays over again tonight. 

“Hey, don’t forget that we’ve got study group for midterms starting tomorrow,” Baekhyun reminds him. Their study group was established by Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, Jongdae, and Chanyeol when their required reading and composition class got a little too hard and they swindled 3 upperclassmen, Junmyeon, Minseok, and Yixing, into tutoring them (holding their sad freshmen hands), still met for midterm cramming. Junmyeon, Minseok, and Yixing had graduated, but came to the meetings, doing work related things while laughing at their suffering. Technically, they were the swindled upperclassmen now, by Jongin and Sehun. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Chanyeol promises before he ducks out. 

“He’s bad at hiding his feelings,” Kyungsoo says to Baekhyun once Chanyeol’s blasting music drives off. Baekhyun happily stretches to laying, head on Kyungsoo’s lap. He’s seen Chanyeol in relationships. Not very long lasting ones, but Chanyeol burned hot and there were little people who could match that. “He’s definitely caught some with whoever he’s seeing.” 

“I know. It’s just a matter of finding out who,” Baekhyun purses his lips. “I asked Jongdae if he’s noticed Chanyeol spending time with Sehun… Kyungsoo, we see him regularly, you can’t make that face.” 

“I know who Sehun is, Baek, but why would you suspect him?” Kyungsoo clarifies. Baekhyun looks up at him with a frowning pout. “Sehun’s always with Junmyeon. Chanyeol and him both like to drink and go club hopping with Jongin and Yixing. That’s all. Plus, Sehun and Junmyeon have the on-off thing going on right now.” ” 

“Okay, but who else can it be? I haven’t seen him with anyone else?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. Baekhyun launches into the theories he’s concocted since they began suspecting. 

Part of him really doesn’t want to care about any of this. Baekhyun cares about it, because, like Chanyeol can’t hide his feelings, Baekhyun needs to keep up with all of his friends and be sure of their well being. Personally, Kyungsoo wouldn’t care as long as Chanyeol wasn’t fucking Jongdae. His brother, and Baekhyun’s best friend, is the one person off limits. 

Jongdae and his mother, Kyungsoo’s mother as well, just not his birth mother, are the reasons why Kyungsoo is so intense about relationships. 

He is a skeptic. That alone could very well be argued is the reason he could never get along with his birth family. It’s not just religious skepticism. It’s a healthy dose injected to all aspects of his life, from the meals he eats to the relationships he keeps. The problem with being a skeptic is the questioning packaged with it. It makes sense though, a skeptic with no questions is an oxymoron. 

He moved to the U.S. around middle school or the start of high school, somewhere along that timeline, but it’s a black hole in his memory. A very good thing. He had known only a handful of English phrases, which sounded like he knew no english, because no kids, in the hellscape that is a rich American suburb, had the ability to understand an accent that wasn’t British TV. Kyungsoo became even quieter than he already was. To the first real disappointment of his parents. 

The disappointments would keep piling on. What was one, really?

One memory does stand out to him: the first time he was ever called a fag. Believe it or not, it hadn’t been a very visceral experience. Especially not with all the other slurs being thrown around. Kyungsoo hadn’t paid attention to it, not knowing what the word even meant, but his teacher had overheard. It rabbit-holed into Kyungsoo and the offending student, waiting in awkward silence in the Principal’s office. Again, this was more or less a mild inconvenience to him. Until his parents showed up, mom and dad demanded to have the kid expelled from the school. All the racial slurs hadn’t gotten this much attention, neither of his parents really paid attention, busy with their business expansion, but, one incriminating word towards Kyungsoo’s sexuality, had roused rage in them. 

Why? 

So he looked up what it meant. The questions came easily from there. Like any good gay person in the modern world, Kyungsoo opened a private browsing window and researched the internet on all things queer. What about Kyungsoo had made this student think that? Is he gay? What did it even mean to be attracted to the same sex? Why was it such a big deal? It’s funny how Kyungsoo hadn’t given his sexuality a lick of thought, too busy dealing with culture shock, until he was confronted with it. 

From his research, he did come out with this: Yes, he is gay. 

It turns out that all those anime boys he grew a little too attached to were an indication of some misplaced sexuality. Looking back on it now, it was embarrassing he hadn’t figured it out sooner. Sexuality had taken a backseat, then shoved into the closet. It makes sense, doesn’t it? If he has no interest in heterosexuality, why would he pay attention to it? His lack of sexual interest was a red flag to the other students, even if he hadn’t thought about it. Because if it’s far from the norm, it had no place in life, isn’t that right? 

No, it wasn’t. 

Kyungsoo had taken his research, took stock of himself, and pitted it against the prosecutors. He had taken their judgements and applied to himself, no matter the scars it etched, because, if you’re queer, this process is an awful rite of passage. He asked himself, what is wrong with me? 

Nothing, Kyungsoo answers, after he’s picked himself apart and pieced himself together. Often, skeptics are prone to question, not answers. But he’s done the mental math. It all pointed to one thing: there’s nothing wrong with loving the same sex. 

The problem with skeptics: they have a tendency to ask for the same level headed way of thinking. Needless to dig up the memories, Kyungsoo ends up homeless at 15. 

Now, it’s a little dramatic to put it that way. (He can’t express his gratitude enough that he can look back and have this sentiment towards this event). He was homeless for approximately 2 nights, sleeping in the playground like a true cliche. It’s more accurate to say he began living with the Kims at 15. The Kims consisted of Jongdae and his mother, who lived in an apartment above a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, and were the kindest people in the world. To this day, Jongdae still lives in that tiny, studio apartment across the city. 

Jongdae had a scholarship to go to Kyungsoo’s private school, despite having to commute via bus for an hour and a half. They were friendly in choir, not close, because Jongdae knew how to charm people into liking him and Kyungsoo was dubbed ‘demonic’ due to his astigmatism and eye-shape. Give it up to high schoolers to be original. They weren’t exactly in the same circle. But, when rumors about Kyungsoo sleeping in the playground circulated, he found himself being strung along to “help” Jongdae with his homework. 

Later in the night, as Kyungsoo hesitated to leave, imagining the last two nights’ cold air and hunger, Jongdae excused himself and Mrs. Kim sat him down for a long talk. It was clear that the mother and son had planned this from the beginning. He remembers burning with shame. She speaks to him in Korean, gentle in each vowel, in cradling his trembling hands, wiping away escaping tears. 

“There’s nothing wrong in how we love,” She says. 

And that was that.

Kyungsoo was given a home with so much love, he never doubted himself from then on. This rite of passage, “coming out” and it’s repercussions, forced to prove oneself a human being, it’s a tradition that needs to be burned away from history. Despite all of it, Kyungsoo did come out with this finding; being with people, who will open their arms and choose to never let you go, that’s a privilege.

So Kyungsoo doesn’t fuck around lightly with love. When he meets someone who can meet that level of passion, Kyungsoo falls hard. 

To anyone who's been around him, Baekhyun’s loud, energetic. He’s doubly loyal and fiercely so. He’s the right fit for Kyungsoo and Kyungsoo’s the right fit for him; balancing each other, adding pieces to each other, building each other up with every understanding met and kiss shared. 

“When people say that love is a choice, this is what they should mean: people making the choice to be with each other, every day. I love you means I’m with you now, and tomorrow. The day after and so on,” Baekhyun had said in his long monologue on why Kyungsoo should go on a date with him. It was that single sentiment, the resounding understanding echoing in it, that made his heart choose Baekhyun.

So, no. Kyungsoo doesn’t understand how people can treat connection, that special knowing between 2 people, without intensity. 

“I love you,” Kyungsoo reminds Baekhyun, who’s still launching into a whirlwind of theories on whomever Chanyeol's boning. 

“I love you too,” Baekhyun replies, quick, without a lick of hesitation, before continuing on. 

Kyungsoo forces Baekhyun to sit so they can make out, because, really, what else is gay rights about other than being able to kiss the boy that makes him happy?

—

Midterm cramming is easily Jongdae’s least favorite time of the semester. Lack of sleep, bouncing between exam, work, projects, and being deprived of any sex due to lack of time can really degrade anyone’s state of mind. 

Still, he’s doing a better job than Chanyeol. 

It’s not Sehun - Baekhyun 

Jongdae furrows his brow at the text message. It’s approximately 2 am and not the most optimal time for him to try to text back. Chanyeol’s lips are on his collar, hand amazing on his dick. Again. Jongdae groans before tossing his phone aside, running his now free hand through Chanyeol’s brown locks. Pinching his ear when his grip gets too tight. 

“You’re the one looking at his phone,” Chanyeol excuses. “I want you to look at me.” 

“I’ve been looking at you, Yeol,” Yeah, directly at his ass. Since early into the night. Jongdae hadn’t realized not seeing each other for most of the week would create this insatiable Chanyeol. 

“Aren’t you tired?” 

“For you? Never.” 

Jongdae laughs. It feels a little hollow despite being real. What he does wonder is if anything Chanyeol says is real. How much of it is just pillow talk? 

Chanyeol gives up, laying down next to him, “You okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s Baekhyun,” Jongdae says to explain. Chanyeol’s lips form a soundless ‘oh’. A cold silence washes over the room. Though, it's still warm under the covers. He wiggles so he can scoot closer to the human equivalent of a boiler, strokes his fingers over a broad, sweaty chest. “It’s okay. He’ll understand if I don’t text back.” 

“I thought he and Kyungsoo would be sleeping by now.” 

“Hmm,” Jongdae hums, knowing Baekhyun stays up for hours due to an insomnia that comes and goes. Kyungsoo’s sleep schedule is the only thing that saves Baekhyun from the previous and worse form of it. Before dating Kyungsoo, Baekhyun would call Jongdae randomly, really it used to be any time of the day; 4 am quiet conversations as Jongdae talks Baekhyun, alone, down from spiraling to 7 pm, putting Baekhyun on speaker as they did homework.

Long nights of Baekhyun venting his problems with Chanyeol into the receiver as Jongdae listened to his point of view of Chanyeol’s sexuality. 

Now, Baekhyun spends his nights resting, even if no sleep comes, and quiet as Kyungsoo sleeps. It helps him stay on routine, discouraging the sleepless nights to stretch on. Funny, Jongdae thinks, as Chanyeol has him up most nights now. 

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol says. Jongdae doesn’t have to look up at Chanyeol like this, side by side. His stomach swoops when Chanyeol inches even closer.  
  
Chanyeol has always been handsome. Jongdae thought so, seeing him surrounded by people, guitar in hand and strumming a charm together during orientation. He walked away, savoring the glimpse of someone gorgeous and completely knowing they don’t exist in the same world. That was before he met Baekhyun, his orientation buddy, who signed up for the LGBTQIA+ orientation tour, same as Jongdae. He’ll never get over how utterly useless he was when they met again at the beginning of the semester. Brain dead the moment he walked into Baekhyun’s dorm, the hot guitar guy lounging on the bed. 

Now, hot guitar guy is lounging in his bed, studying Jongdae like music he wants to learn. But Chanyeol doesn’t say anything. His utterance of Jongdae’s name, the deep voice conjured up from his chest to speak it, hangs between them. The cold keeps seeping in between them.

Jongdae closes the distance, kissing frowning lips before he lets Chanyeol steal the kiss like a sin forgiven. Long fingers skim over his waist, laying their burning palms over his ribs and his heart thumps to meet it. His fingers strum through each rib, reverent in learning each cord that makes Jongdae shiver and draw closer. His mouth sings a wordless tune that leaves Jongdae’s lips craving, needing, more. His kiss thieves Jongdae’s breath and he’s left panting, shivering under the way Chanyeol plays him. 

He’s rolled to his back, knees bent and bracketing Chanyeol’s waist. Chanyeol hovers above him, elbows bent, bracketing Jongdae’s flushed face. He peers, studying, figuring out the new notes he can pull from Jongdae. 

He learns so easily, makes Jongdae feel seen, read even when he holds the pages so tightly. 

Chanyeol coaxes him open, drawing noise from his throat until Jongdae sings for him. 

Later, when they’re clean, watching the night sky brighten, Chanyeol holds him, Jongdae’s back against his chest. Their hands linked together. They’re both pretending to be trying to sleep. Instead, he can feel Chanyeol’s contained thoughts against his back when his chest expands. His own brushes back, running down his spine. Chanyeol’s fingers are absent, but antsy as they stroke over Jongdae’s. 

Jongdae has to exhale his want, this desire, to turn over and ask Chanyeol what he’s thinking about. 

Don’t. 

Jongdae’s hand tightens under Chanyeol’s, catching his fingers like a Venus fly trap. Chanyeol’s hand closes over his. He pulls them flush, pulling his arms close around Jongdae.

They can’t. 

Jongdae had made a mistake already, turning back from the better decision. He crossed the line, opened the box. If he steps any closer, lets Chanyeol thoroughly learn these parts of Jongdae, he’ll have nothing left to keep from Chanyeol. 

And that’s not what this is. 

Jongdae needs this piece of himself, clutches it in his hands, so that he can have something purely his own when Chanyeol’s gone.   
__

Kyungsoo tilts his head and blinks his large eyes at them. He asks, “Are you two coming together?” 

Which is, to say, not the best thing, though certainly accurate, to say as Jongdae and Chanyeol show up twenty minutes late to their study session, clothes barely on their bodies. Jongdae has no idea what Chanyeol was thinking, pulling him into a kiss as soon as they parked in the library’s lot. Jongdae feels all shook up now. He doesn’t meet the seven pairs of eyes looking at them scramble to get to seats, opposite sides of the long table. 

“What’d we miss?” Jongdae slides past the question and takes out his books. The study room they reserve is a group one, able to fit the 9 of them comfortably. Plus, the round table had plenty of outlets. It requires some bribing during this time of the semester. Being that this is the music library, Jongdae had plenty of friends in the staff. Including Hanbyul and Youngbae, graduate students who scored them an overnight reservation for finals. Though, it meant cutting their midterm reservations. 

“Only ordering,” Baekhyun flicks Jongdae’s forehead. Jongdae takes it with a giggle. Its tradition to order greasy take out. Onew’s, a hit restaurant opened by a graduate of the same culinary school Kyungsoo attended, has been their group favorite since it opened. They were friends with the group of queer friends who owned the joint and Irene’s squad worked for them, getting a nice cushy job while attending school. Their group didn’t really order anymore, they just dropped one of their names and the order could complete itself. 

Jongdae cuddles up to Baekhyun, “Did you get my favorite?” 

It’s hard to miss the way Chanyeol stares. 

“Yes, but you can only have half of it. We got you your usual too, Chanyeol. Chanyeol?” 

“Huh?” Chanyeol shakes himself out of it. “Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep.” 

“Not the best way to start midterms,” Junmyeon chides, as if he isn’t chugging down a thermos of espresso. No one knew how Junmyeon functioned on as little sleep as the man got. 

“Yeah, well, he’s hooking up with someone,” Baekhyun teases by wiggling a finger towards Chanyeol.  
  
For a second, Jongdae feels his stomach sink. It’s too obvious. Coming together, looking flustered. 

“Oh, yea?” Minseok, ever the life saver, joins in. Jongdae had had the biggest crush on Minseok. Ironically, he’s the only one in their group who isn’t remotely gay. Otherwise, Minseok had admitted that he’d wife Jongdae in a second. Secretly, Jongdae still wants to be his wife. Minseok leans over and pastes a teasing grin on, towards Chanyeol. “Who is it?” 

Chanyeol looks down at his book. His face is beet red. Jongdae’s not sure if it’s because of the teasing or the fact that Jongdae, his hook up, is right fucking here. 

“Baekhyun thought it was Sehun,” Jongdae blurts out.

Baekhyun looks mortified, “What? It could have been! They go out all the time.” 

“Except Junmyeon and Sehun are, like…together?” Jongin starts strong before petering it into a question. 

“Yes,” Sehun and Junmyeon confirm. Junmyeon and Sehun had been dancing around their relationship. Bouncing rapidly between monogamy to open, to breaking up, dating, passionate monogamy again. At this point, they had all stopped keeping track. That’s their mess to sort out. Now, Jongdae’s in his own mess. 

“Actually, though,” Sehun says. “Whenever we go out, people do think that Chanyeol and I are together. It’s why I can’t get free drinks when he goes out with me.” 

“Just tell people he’s straight,” Baekhyun snorts. 

Jongdae can feel the tension rise in the room. Like a bruise being poked. 

“Shut up, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says. 

Or like a stab wound being punched. 

“Why? What's the difference anyway?” Baekhyun challenges. 

“Baekhyun,” Yixing interjects, voice lilting, always the first to quell an argument. 

“You are, though? Conveniently, right?” Baekhyun keeps on. “You get to choose when it’s most convenient to you. Why can’t you let Sehun use it?” 

One of the qualities Jongdae has always loved and respected about Baekhyun is his ability to be blunt. To stand up for what’s right, call people out when they’re being shitty, never back down from a challenge. But, to say that this fearlessness didn’t have flaws, would just be wrong. 

What Baekhyun wants is to protect Chanyeol. To confront Chanyeol to be real with himself. To make peace with his sexuality. 

But what comes out, is frustration. Frustrated that Chanyeol can lie about himself and still have a prospective future. Frustrated that Chanyeol has a “choice” and made the wrong one. Frustration that Chanyeol lacks the courage to just own up to who he is. 

Jongdae doesn’t feel like a convenience when it’s just Chanyeol and him. 

Right now, though, he does feel nauseous. 

Chanyeol doesn’t stand up for himself, normally the one to argue back, instead his eyes cloud with water. He swipes, quick, with his sweater. 

“Fine, whatever you say,” Chanyeol’s voice is nothing short of upset. He ducks his head into his textbook.

“Sorry-” Baekhyun starts. 

“It’s a little late for that,” Minseok sighs. They sink into the awkward aftermath. 

He taps his pen 3 times. Then, Jongdae mewls, the cute, nagging one all of them despises and yet finds very endearingly Jongdae. They all groan as a trigger reflex.

“Can we study? I can’t afford another semester and I think I’m failing this requirement.”

It ebbs. They hunker down and filter through their notes. The silence still aches. Jongdae sneaks a glance at Chanyeol. Who’s looking back. 

In their years of friendship, distant with Baekhyun as the glue, Chanyeol and Jongdae hadn’t really known each other. They always got along, never fought nor deepened anything. Jongdae knows for Chanyeol, it’s because there was nothing else to pursue and he’s busy with an entire circle of friends outside of Jongdae, Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo. For Jongdae, it’s because he had always known that he had liked Chanyeol a little too much. An attraction that stretches a little too long. It’s the smarter, more mature choice to stay away from any unnecessary heartaches. Why open Pandora’s box, right? After all, Jongdae has been warned from the beginning: 

'He doesn’t date guys. He’s one of those bi people.' 

Jongdae doesn’t hold it against Baekhyun for that assumption. As someone queer, or ‘label-less’, or without a homo or hetero-label, Jongdae truly feels his own sense of frustration regarding this. He knew a fair amount of people, who fucked around with the same sex and admitted they would never raise a family around same sex parents. Or admit that they were queer. Whatever their reasoning, households needs a mother and father, my parents would never let me marry the same sex, I’m not gay it’s just fun, blah, blah, blergh, it all centered around assimilating to heteronormative society and Jongdae hated it. 

Beliefs that gave everyone fuel to suspect all non-homosexual queer folks. What was Jongdae to do? Critics were right about how detrimental that type of behavior is. 

Only to an extent. 

Because it all boils down to the fact that everyone’s struggling with their sexuality. It’s illogical to say households need differing sex parents, when statistics can argue otherwise. Who cares about what parents think? It’s your life not theirs! Our gay and lesbian siblings don’t have a choice, but to be out, don’t we have the same responsibility? Shouldn't we push our stories, the narrative of the sexuality as fluid and varied? Doesn't all of our existence, as a united whole, show people that queerness is something that should be and can be normalized? Aren't these the same questions everyone queer asks themselves? Aren't these our shared stories? history? The internalized shame that sits like tar inside of us. 

Except no one actually says any of it. No one opens up about their vulnerabilities, too afraid, too scarred, too tired. It just turns into: 

'He’s just closeted and wants to fuck guys while being straight. I don’t date people who are indecisive. They’re cheaters.' 

Jongdae doesn’t understand when people switch into arguing instead of talking. But there are myths being woven around everyone’s perspective, telling and communicating through a game of telephone until everyone’s shouting about the wrong thing. 

All Jongdae knows is that he does have straight privilege when he’s dating a girl. Only, because everyone denies his sexuality, his identity, and writes over his narrative with their preconceived notions. Jongdae never feels real to those people. When he’s with a guy, Jongdae’s gay, he gets all the scrutiny, bullying, and bashing. Yet, the same community that protects gay couples is the same one that spat on Jongdae, after correcting them on their assumption of Jongdae’s sexuality, and told him to decide or get out.

So, he sits on the sidelines, everything grey and jumbled up, tries to repair the fractures. 

Jongdae starts humming a song they all can’t help, but join in.   
__

“Baekhyun and I can drive you home,” Kyungsoo says as they’re packing their notes and books away. The six hour stint of studying has worn on them. Jongdae would hesitate to say he learned anything, as his eyes kept wandering to the only true current occupant of his brain. Chanyeol hadn’t said a word outside explaining subjects, only when asked. 

“Actually, Chanyeol,” Jongdae calls out, gentle as not to jolt the taller. The slumping giant looks over at them. “Did you still need my help to look for sheet music?” His brows pinch. “You said something when we bumped into each other on our way up?” 

“O-oh, yeah, if you don’t mind,” Chanyeol mumbles. The couple doesn’t question it. Jongdae’s the one that spent the most time in this library, knows how the sheet music is organized. They all say their goodbyes via cruel teasing with a last moment addition of well wishes. 

“Let’s hang out,” Baekhyun says. He smiles and promises. Though, it’ll most likely fall through. Jongdae holds no ill will, since they’re happy, but the time they’ve spent together has decreased. Rarely does he see Baekhyun without Kyungsoo, and vice-versa. It’s different, less intimate than conversations between 2 people; misses late night cooking with Kyungsoo, misses “ironic” brunches with Baekhyun. He wouldn’t have it any other way, but Jongdae feels himself drift to the outskirts of their attention. 

“Get home safe,” Kyungsoo says. His expression is serious. 

Chanyeol follows him down to the basement level, head still bowed. No one’s ever in the basement level except for graduate students and the staff. At this time of night, even grad students couldn’t be wondering here. Jongdae finds the aisles of classical composers. The only sound is a clock ticking on an unknown wall. He should find the smell unpleasant, musky and old, but, placing his fingers on the spine of each thin, slender booklet, there’s music waiting to be heard. 

“Are you okay?” Jongdae asks. 

“Hm,” Chanyeol hums. He stands, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, the hanging strap off his backpack. “Look, Jongdae-”

Jongdae’s always known. He’s always liked Chanyeol a little too much. 

“It’s fine,” He forgives. Jongdae titles himself a fool, immediately. But Chanyeol looks sad, rumpled like a withered beanstalk. It’s unbearable. “I know about what Baekhyun was saying so… I know what this is between us.” 

Chanyeol stays still. 

“I know this isn’t serious for you,” Jongdae says. He’s never been a good liar, easier to make everything about others, their wants and needs before his own, so he can deflect any questions thrown at him. He only wishes Chanyeol won’t-

“And for you?”   
Jongdae continues to stroke over the spines of the books. They’re all slender and tall, bursting with withheld sound. Even when he’s looking away, there’s things that remind him of Chanyeol.   
“What about me?” Jongdae asks. He’s never allowed to watch movies again, always the one to yell at characters for miscommunications, when, in reality, Jongdae would rather die. There’s a part of him that wants to let go, rip the bandaid off, but he just wants to be greedy. 

The question hangs between them. What of Jongdae? It’s not as if he’ll ever be the one Chanyeol brings home to his parents. Ultimately, like anyone meant to drift, Jongdae doesn’t have a say, while he sits to the side, and watches everyone make decisions without him. 

Pose a question too hard to answer. 

“Chanyeol?” 

Chanyeol hums, but doesn’t answer. Jongdae seals his lips, continues on pretending to look, but, eventually, a deep voice runs like a current down Jongdae’s spine. 

“For me… “What this is between us”… haven’t I- hasn’t it been good?” 

“Yes, it has,” Jongdae doesn’t hesitate to answer that. There’s no way to cut the truth when every evidence has been there. His time with Chanyeol has been more than good.   
The distance between them stretches. As the seconds tick by, it widens and the words on the spines become hard to read. Chanyeol turns his head away, shoulders slumped and face angled away from Jongdae. 

He has his fingers clutched around the little piece of himself. It slips out of his hold. 

“We can just keep things the way they are,” Jongdae suggests. Because it’s nearly 3 a.m. and he’s beginning to hear the music come from the books, playing like jolts up from his fingertips. He may not be thinking straight (never is), but fuck it. Jongdae’s always been so good, never the one to break rules, got good grades, always polite, stayed away from conflict, never blacked out once. He’s graduating college without one heartbreak that shatters his worldview. It’s only right that he gets to have this one indulgence. 

If Chanyeol is Jongdae’s bad decision, he’s not really sure it could ever be bad. Only knows it’ll hurt. 

“We’re seniors. We deserve to have good sex without having to go out every night in hopes for it, right?” Jongdae reassures, hand frozen over a book. It's letters pressing against the pad of his finger.“We can be adults about this. Have fun and mess around until-”

Graduation? Finals? Next week when Chanyeol finds a girlfriend? 

Fingertips find their way to the base of Jongdae’s spine. The run, like a melody, until they reach his nape. Chanyeol’s other hand circle his wrist, lifting them away from the row of books. He’s tugged, like he weighs a feather, into Chanyeol’s chest. He curls his head on the offered shoulder. His arms automatically wind around Chanyeol’s middle. 

“This…between us,” Chanyeol whispers into his hair. “It’s good.” 

Jongdae basks in it. 

“Fuck it,” he whispers, indulgent, tilting his head up. Their lips touch like completing circuits. Chanyeol is a hot day, inviting the rolling thunderclouds of a storm. Jongdae feels electric with him. It’s all he wants. He pushes with a hand, palm flat, until Chanyeol steps beneath the stairs. Jongdae crowds him, chasing after his lips. “Let’s have fun.” 

“Jongdae- ” He drops to his knees, hands easily slipping the belt off Chanyeol’s hips and tugging down his pants and underwear. He circled his fingers around the base of the taller’s flaccid dick. There’s a hiss then a gasp as he draws Chanyeol into his mouth. It’s the rumbling groan that shakes through Chanyeol that spurs Jongdae. He digs up some knowledge from his vocal lessons so he can relax his throat, breath through his nose while his mouth is busy. Jongdae focuses on the weight of Chanyeol’s cock on his tongue. He sucks it down little by little until he can take his hand off the base. 

Chanyeol’s hand trembles when it combs through his hair. Jongdae hums before hollowing his cheeks around the now hard cock. Really, he should be proud of how fast he can make Chanyeol this hard. Every loud hitch of his baritone, every moan, long or short, every time he says Jongdae’s name, like a plea, it makes Jongdae want to give him everything. He wants to take Chanyeol apart and make him see stars behind his eyelids. 

He sucks Chanyeol’s dick with the intention to make him cum so hard, they have to sleep in the library. 

“Nm,” Jongdae chokes, just a little, but he likes the passionate way Chanyeol’s hand grips his hair. The way his long fingers are tangled up…when Chanyeol tugs, Jongdae moans around his dick. Jongdae looks up to shut eyes, parted mouth, and heaving chest. He swallows Chanyeol down and watches his face twist with pleasure. It’s an easy, satisfying game to have Chanyeol’s legs shaking, coming with a groan so deep it echoes in Jongdae’s ribs. 

“Fuck, Jongdae,” Chanyeol rasps, leaning heavily against the wall. Jongdae tucks his cock back into his pants, fixes him up, and stands up, only to lean, chest to chest, on the taller. 

“I think you say that every time you’re with me,” Jongdae gives him a chaste kiss with Chanyeol meeting him halfway. He tucks his head under Chanyeol’s chin. It’s easy for his arms to find their place around the other. 

The clock ticks the seconds away. Should his fingers be made of ink, Chanyeol’s back would be covered in notes. A gentle, glowing, melancholy tune. 

Chanyeol kisses him, tasting in tandem with Jongdae’s unsung melody. 

Even if it’s just this… it’s good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope the smut isn't too bad, I'm rusty :D Should have the next chapter up in a week or so. Dunno after that :3


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